The kid’s been away for a little while and I miss him terribly.
But it does mean that I have time to do things that are generally too low-priority to actually do – like really check out the new H-Mart that opened a few blocks from my pad.
This is the exciting middle-aged life I live.
Her: I have to give it to Asians for creating a better soup spoon. Me: I’ve always felt that – glad you agree.
Although not everything was a winner.
Her: OK, explain that to me? Me: Not sure if I can. It looks like it’s a fish cake, that states like hot/spicy chicken, in the shape of a hot dog, packaged in a plastic cylinder. Her: Yep, that’s what I got as well.
And the Firecracker and I got to do things around the hood, like have beer and wings over by my local dive bar.
Me: I think I was 24 years old when I first came here. The wings got a lot more expensive but it’s also a lot nicer now. Her: That’s cool, that you have places that you regularly go to after all these years.
Oh, and also check out things like concerts – I found another video that I forgot to put up last week from the Matchbox 20 concert.
Of course, I’m still counting the days until the kid comes back.
Me: So, what did you do today? Him: I went swimming in the creek! And do you know what I saw? Me: No, what? Him: Crawdads! They’re like little lobsters. Me: (laughing) I’m not unaware. Don’t let them pinch you. Him: (seriously) Oh, definitely.
Location: shooting more videos for Scenic Fights
Mood: tired
Music: Maybe it’s time to come home (Spotify) Subscribe! Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.
Her: [The kid] and I have to run an errand together. Me: What? OK… Her: We’ll be right back.
The kid got me the below card for Father’s Day – evidently, he picked it out himself.
He also picked a $25 Domino’s gift card as well.
Woke up early to get him to jits and, when we got back, the Firecracker had made us a buncha heart-attack sammies.
The boy wanted to play in some water, so he and I, plus the Firecracker – her son was with his dad – spent a good part of the day trying to find a place where the water was on.
We walked up Columbus and into a street fair, where the kid found something to amuse himself with.
But the place we ended up at had no water.
Nor did the other places we went to.
Ended up going to three joints which were all a bust but went a solid mile south and the boy crashed a soccer game.
Somehow also got some ice pops as well.
Me: Did you say thank you? Him: Of course!
Needed to go to the bathroom, so I walked into a restaurant ready to buy something, but no one was there.
So, I just used the facilities and then left.
Walking up, we finally found a water pad for the kid to play in, just as I heard about the horror at the water pad in Michigan.
But I was determined to have a good day with the boy and the Firecracker so I put it outta my mind as best I could.
I have that luxury; I’m sure the families in Michigan couldn’t do the same.
Him: Did you have a good Father’s Day, papa? Me: I had you and [the Firecracker] plus a heart attack sandwich. I’m not sure what else I coulda wanted.
When I was a kid, there was either no afterschool programs or my family couldn’t afford to send us, but, in any case, I never knew about the very idea of “afterschool” growing up.
For my own kid, I put him a program so I had time to work, and that was a musical production of Footloose.
Because it was his first time, he only had a bit part with one line, but he was in the cast and had to sing and dance in a number of the songs.
In any case, they had their three shows last week and I went to two of them.
My MIL, SIL, and I went to the one on Thursday; ABFF, her kids, and her sister went on Friday; the Firecracker, her niece, her sister, and I all went on Saturday.
On the one hand, it was pretty well done, I gotta say.
On the other hand, watching two of the same grade-school musicals is pretty much my limit.
The kids with parents that went to all three are pretty lucky as they, clearly, have better parents than my kid has.
On the flip side, there was this nice kid that was also in the show that waved to my kid after the last performance was over and proceeded to walk home alone.
Me: Oh man, that really bothers me. Her: What? That he’s going home alone? Me: Yeah – it means that no one came to see him. Her: Maybe they came to another show. Me: Still…
I’m confident my kid will be angry with me because there’s something about fathers and sons that means there’s always friction there, somehow.
But I hope he remembers that, whenever possible, I showed up.
Him: Thanks for coming! I was looking for you. Me: (laughing) And you found me.
I’m pretty sure the fella on the lower left-hand corner is Tony Danza.
Quick little side story:
On the first night I went with my MIL and SIL, Tony Danza from Who’s the Boss fame sat two rows ahead of us.
We all assumed that he had a kid or grandkid in the audience but one parent told me the following – which, keep in mind, is like the game “telephone” in that you’re like hearing it from the person that heard it from the person that heard it.
Me: Does he have a kid here? Him: I just heard him tell another parent that he was at the park the other day and some kid walked up to him, not knowing who he was, and said, “I’m in a play on Thursday, will you come and watch it?” I think that kid was asking everyone he met to come by. Anyway, Tony Danza heard this and said, “Sure!” and he actually showed up! Me: Man, I always liked him. I hope that’s true.
Regardless, he sat through the whole thing, laughed and clapped at the right times, and left without a fuss.
What a class act.
Should mention that my brother did that picture of my kid for the back cover of the Playbill above – he’s amazing at stuff like that.
I was just born in this picture. My kid wore what I was wearing here as well. Maybe someday, I’ll show it to you.
Mom: Your dad’s been gone seven years. Can you believe it? Me: Not really. It feels like it was just a couple of years ago. Her: (repeating) Seven years. Not easy, is it? Me: No. He woulda loved seeing [the kid]. Her: Yes. That’s your dad. Me: (nodding)
Location: at a school performance, waiting for the kid to arrive
Mood: impressed
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After the kid’s recital, a classmate of the kid, the other kid’s family, the Firecracker, and my MIL all went to get dinner at Jacob’s Pickles, which I mentioned in passing to you over a decade ago.
I’d gone there twice before, this time marking my third time.
Me: I can really only come here every five years because it’s so carby and the portions are so large. Him: How large? Me: Laughably. You’ll see.
Now, I can pack away a lotta protein, fat, and fiber but something about carbs really fills me up fast.
Because he just did his recital, told the kid he could get anything he wanted so he asked for the chicken and pancakes, which are ginormous.
We split that and hardly made a dent in it.
Also, I ordered the 32 oz hard apple cider – all for my lonesome – which was a mistake.
Me: We have to walk home. Her: Why? Me: We gotta work off alla this food.
Now, the Mother’s Group – whom I’ve not seen in years just because one member moved to Taiwan and the others had kids that went to different schools – were meeting up at the pier by the Hudson River so we went there next.
I find it funny – and kinda sweet – that when the ladies write everyone, including me, they just write, “Ladies…”
Look, I’m just happy to be included.
By the time the kid, the Firecracker, and I finally arrived, they’d been there for hours.
But I was able to catch up with everyone.
Me: You spent COVID in Taiwan? How was it? Her: It was awesome! Totally normal. Me: Oh man, that was not my experience at all.
It was super late when we all got home.
Firecracker: Your friends are all really nice. Me: I like to think so.
The kid had his school party, the recital, the dinner, and this last get together all on the same day, so he crashed hard.
I hope he’s creating good memories for himself.
Think that’s all any parent really hopes for outta this kinda stuff.
Him: But it fits! Me: Kinda. You’re definitely Brittney Spearsing it here.
Clothes that I just bought for the kid last year are already not fitting him.
I remember that, as a kid, I loved this yellow shirt with a red V on it. Wore it until my bellybutton was constantly out, all Britney Spears like.
Think my parents were just happy that I didn’t ask for new clothes, but I always think that Alison woulda wanted him to be put together so I try my best.
My best being a sliding scale.
(c) Getty Images
Him: Why don’t you ever show my face? Me: Because I don’t have that right. At least, I shouldn’t have that right.
Been enjoying my new gym – it’s interesting rolling with people from a completely new gym because no one knows my game and I know no one else’s game, so each roll feels very different than at my old gym.
Recently rolled with a very talented but smaller female. While I could have easily beat her, that wasn’t why I was there; I was there to get better.
Just because I can, doesn’t mean I should.
In a way, that’s why I don’t put up pictures of my kid where you can clearly see his face.
See, I grew up in a time where you could grow up in relative anonymity.
Never realized what a gift that was until YouTube because – MAN – did I do some jaw-droppingly bone-headed things when I was younger.
Legit, thank god everyone didn’t walk around with a video camera because I would most likely be hated by the world writ large.
In that sense, I feel that it’s not fair or right that I – as someone much bigger and much older than my kid – have the right to take away my son’s chance to be anonymous.
Just because I can, doesn’t mean I should.
He’s a little kid right now but little kids grow up to be adults.
When he is one, he might resent not being able to tell his own story his own way.
If you think about it, the thing that probably pisses you off the most is when someone else tells your story.
Janet? She’s such a slut. Did you hear last Friday, she…
Tom? He’s a loser. When we were kids…
That guy? Lemme tell you about him…
But I have to balance that with the fact that I’m proud of him – so proud of him – and what he can do so I wanna show him off.
And that’s really what it is with parents, isn’t it?
They want to show their kids off, not for their kids sake, but for their own. And that’s not right, I don’t think.
Just because they can, doesn’t mean they should.
So, my concession is that I blur or hide his face and name so that when/if he does want to have a public face/name, that’s his choice to make when he’s old enough to make that choice.
For now, I realize that, just because I could put up anything I want about him, I shouldn’t.
Me: One day, you’ll be old enough to decide who you are and how you want the world to see you. You and your friends are gonna be some of the first kids on the planet that’s lost that right to be a nobody. Him: (thinking) What if I wanna be someone? Me: That’s your choice to make. I’ve lived my life. I don’t have the right to live your life as well. You get to decide who and what you want to be. (pause) For what it’s worth, you’re always someone to me. You’re my most important someone.
Location: a pier with four lovely ladies – including the Firecracker – the boy, and a bottle of white
Mood: so. full.
Music: I just wanna be someone. Well, doesn’t everyone? (Spotify) Subscribe! Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.
Her: Can you imagine what George Washington would say right now? Me: “What an asshole?” Her: Exactly.
A good buddy of mine hurt his leg the other day doing a harai goshi and sent me a video of it.
Fast-forward to earlier this week and the kid tried the same throw and almost broke his leg.
Him: Why are you mad at me?! Me: I’m not mad at you, kid. I’m worried you’re gonna break your leg!
By Gotcha2 – Own work, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=3096148
Both the body and mind grow through adversity.
This fella named Arthur Golden once said, Adversity is like a strong wind. It tears away from us all but the things that cannot be torn, so that we see ourselves as we really are.
Wanna give the boy enough stress to make him better, but not so much so as to make him worse.
On that note, I just went to my local urgent care office – again – because I thought I fractured my wrist in jits the other day.
Doctor: What happened? Me: Essentially, I forgot that I’m 51 and not 17. Him: (nodding) Ah…we get that a lot here. Me: Yup.
Turns out that I didn’t have any broken bones, just a particularly bad strain.
The weirdest part was that no “event” happened – I just walked off the mat at the end and could barely move my wrist.
Not much to do but rest it up and hope it heals quickly.
I still have a small handful of kali students that I train over Zoom.
One of them is a doctor from Pittsburg that was in town the other day visiting his sister, who just happens to also live on the UWS.
So, we met up for a really brief bit to have a cuppa joe.
Me: It’s crazy when I think about it. My great grandmother was so poor that she sold her only child – my grandmother – to another family because she couldn’t afford to support her. She died not soon afterward. And here I am, an ivy league educated lawyer living in Manhattan. Nuts. Him: Surprising how much similar history [we have] being second generation children of immigrants. Me: Yeah. I wish my dad was still alive so I could tell him that I’m so sorry for being such an asshole when I was a teenager.
